


hannah's little writing prompt drabble collection thing

by glowingmongrel



Category: Left 4 Dead, Left 4 Dead 2
Genre: F/F, M/M, my goal is for everyone to appear in at least one of these, silly little things, writing prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-02-15 22:21:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2245443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glowingmongrel/pseuds/glowingmongrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a collection of silly little writing prompt drabbles of various pairings but probably mostly francis/louis</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Francis/Louis "Can we pretend I didn’t just say that?"

**Author's Note:**

> so i got these little writing prompts on tumblr and decided to post them here. they're mostly silly and tame cutesy things and they are very short. there will be more later since i got quite a few of these and im just godawful slow at them sometimes. but if you have a cool l4d writing prompt feel free to send it my way!!

“That's mine!” Francis barked as the spitter toppled to the ground in a puddle of its own acid. He leaned back in his chair up on the balcony of the boarded-up house they'd holed up in for the night, setting his sniper rifle down.

 

“Sweet, baby!”

 

Louis grinned at Francis, bright and cheery in the chair next to his. He couldn't help it, he was enthusiastic on a normal day and here they were in a safehouse that was a _house_ with _rooms_ and they'd found a good supply of food and decided to stay for a few days and rest up. Keeping watch was a lot less stressful when they knew they'd get plenty of sleep after their shift was up and sitting on the balcony with Francis taking potshots at zombies was actually sort of nice.

 

“Didja just call me baby?” Francis asked, giving Louis a weird look.

 

Louis paused, he hadn't even really noticed himself saying that. And he wasn't really specifically calling Francis 'baby', not exactly. Well, maybe sort of. He hadn't meant to, at least not out loud. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

 

“I, er. Can we pretend I didn't just say that?”

 

Francis looked at him a bit and Louis was almost worried he'd say no and press the matter even if Francis had proved himself over time to be more laid back than Louis thought when they first met.

 

Then the biker smirked at him, amusement in his eyes and he chuckled and pulled another room-temperature beer out of the six-pack they'd found in the house.

 

“Sure thing, darlin'.” 


	2. Francis/Louis "I think you missed your calling."

The painkillers Louis took earlier had kicked in and he found himself a bit hazy as he stared up at the saferoom ceiling and allowed Francis to look him over. He'd been downright fussing since Louis got torn up, not that he'd ever own up to that. It was nice, though, having someone to change bandages for you. Louis didn't mind. On top of that, Francis was awfully convenient to lean on whenever he did this.

Maybe a few weeks ago he wouldn't have felt like he could do it without getting punched in the mouth, but he'd long since learned that the biker's bark was worse than his bite and he never seemed to mind being used as a pillow. It made long, sore nights holed up in tiny safehouses a little easier. And as it turned out Francis liked to sleep on people, all curled up in heap. It was kind of endearing if you could get past how heavy he was and with how exhausted Louis usually was at the end of the day, the contact was well worth having to move around a bit to get settled. 

“Don't you look comfy,” Francis snorted, giving Louis a light nudge but making no real effort to move him. 

“I nearly got my guts torn out by a hunter, man, I think I earned this.” 

“Yeah, yeah, well. Enjoy yerself, nerd.” 

“Y'know, Francis,” Louis laughed quietly into his friend's shoulder as rough gloved hands pulled fresh bandages over the healing claw marks in his side, “I think you missed your calling.” 

“What?” Francis looked up, a rather confused look on his face.

“You woulda made a great nurse.” 

Francis shook his head and reached his hand up to rest on Louis' shoulder. “Ahh, shut up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if i see one single pills joke made about this i will eat my own legs


	3. Hold Still

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is arguably the most pointless little cute thing ive ever written. pure useless domestic crap and i intend to write more.

     Francis gets hurt a lot. Like a lot a lot, because he makes bad decisions and he’s thoroughly convinced he’s invincible - which to be entirely fair might not be that far off. He’s a big guy who can take a big hit and he’s survived, but as far as Louis knows he’s certainly not immortal, so Louis worries.

It’s not even just zombies, it’s been all sorts of things. Sure he’s done his fair share of tripping over witches and attempting to dodge tanks. Even _trying to take on a tank on his own with one shotgun_ , but it’s not always so dignified. He barges through windows and jumps off ledges that are too high. He does this fucking trick with his shotgun one-handed. Half the time he just pulls a muscle or bruises his own ribs with the recoil.

Somehow, Louis always thought that would end after they got to the island.

“Just--hold _still_ , Francis,” Louis huffs, holding Francis’ tattooed arm down on the table under the light. He carefully grips a piece of glass with tweezers and pulls it out.

“I ha--”

“Don’t even say it,” Louis doesn’t _snap_ but he certainly sounds firm.

“Aww, c’mon Louie, you know I’ve had worse than this.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Yeah, doesn’t mean this is a good idea, man. What were you even doing in that shed?”

“Thought there’d be some cool shit in there, I dunno. Don’t look at me like that! I’m indestructible, remember?” It gets him a stern look and Francis quickly backpedals. “Okay, okay, maybe not but I got you to fix me up, don’t I?”

“Oh, don’t you dare,” Louis says in a warning tone, but he’s trying not to smile, “Don’t you try and butter me up like that, you’re in trouble.”

“Why would I do a thing like that, darlin’?”

“I’ll put these pieces of glass right back in your arm and leave ya like this.”

Francis laughs a little too loud and before Louis can give him another one of those looks he has, the big man leans over the table and clumsily kisses Louis’ cheek. Louis can’t help but laugh this time, softly shoving Francis back.

They’ve been on the island for six weeks now, and they’ve been...well, whatever the zombie apocalypse equivalent of dating is for about three. Admittedly, Louis had a crush on Francis since Fairfield. He got on his nerves at first, but something always felt charming about him. His jabs were always just teasing, and he’d back off if he knew he went too far. There was a warmth under that tough guy act.

Louis had kind of figured he’d lose the crush once they’d settled into their island, but evidently that never happened. Three weeks in, he made a move and kissed him on the beach next to their bonfire (with the help of a few drinks) and Zoey cheered enough to make Louis blush. He kind of figured it wouldn’t go further than that, but it did, and here they are, with Francis being almost too domestic about things.

“Hey, down boy,” Louis says, shaking his head, “I’m still...slightly mad at you.”

Francis laughs quietly in response but he backs off, settling into his chair. Louis feels terribly smug when he pulls the last shard of glass from Francis’ arm, carefully bandages it, and then leans back over the table to tug him into a real kiss.

They’ve got about five minutes tops before Zoey shows up and tells them to take their makeout session out of the living room and they know it, but it won’t bother them at all.

  
  



End file.
